trouble in believing
by Mia-Zeklos
Summary: Shortly after escaping Kylo Ren's interrogation room, Rey meets Ben - another one of his prisoners.


**Notes: Written for day four of Reylo Week - _Grey_. Based on an idea where the interrogation went slightly differently and Rey never got to see her captor's face but was instead offered a way out by Ben Solo - another person looking for a way out.**

* * *

Watching Ren try to talk his way out of trouble was one of the few genuinely amusing things on Starkiller Base and the rare sight of it was the only reason Hux was still lingering around. It was worth it to watch him squirm, even if the image of the Supreme Leader still loomed equally over both of them.

There was something different in the air this time, though. This was _bad_. The mission had been botched seemingly beyond salvation and no amount of Ren's evasive speeches about _the Force's ways_ was going to save him from that fact; not given that Snoke knew more about it than even he did.

"I can still contain the situation," he was saying, the voice modulator turning the assurance rougher than he would have probably liked it to be. "The girl can't be far. There are— ways to convince her to give me what I want."

There was a moment of silence as the Supreme Leader presumably dug inside his apprentice's mind. "Good," he said at last. It wasn't really an approval, but as close as it was going to get. "Good. But be careful. It wouldn't do for this to lead you astray."

An interesting choice of words, Hux noted, and one that got only a frantic headshake as a response at first. "Never."

"You're dismissed."

The relief in the air was palpable. Kylo Ren turned on his heel and exited the room as quickly as his dignity allowed him.

~.~

Discarding the helmet was easy when he knew that it was only for the time being. It would be difficult to get back on Starkiller without it later and avoid being seen, but there was no logical way to explain it if someone saw it in the meantime. The clothes were more of a struggle.

Not in the physical sense, which he hadn't seen coming. They still fit perfectly and although there was no logical reason to think that they would not, it still felt— wrong. _This is a skin I've grown out of, isn't it?_ It had been irrational to expect his body to change to fit that, but then again, it had been irrational to keep the clothes too, even if he'd stuffed them in the back of his wardrobe years ago. It offered him the disguise he needed, so he wasn't complaining, but it was the _principle_ of it that mattered.

Still, at least he had a plan. It was simple enough – find the girl, get her off the Base, get her to convince the droid to give him the map, get back to his starting point. If she'd trusted the traitor so easily and had worked with him enough for both him and the droid to disappear, she would have no reason not to trust someone who had escaped the same treatment as her. He was already planning out what to say, but there was no reason to overdo it; as long as she knew that Kylo Ren had tortured someone else as well, it would be too easy to make her sympathetic.

There was no room for mistakes, but there didn't need to be – this would be over before it had started. Taking one last look at his quarters, he let the door shut closed behind him and lowered his head in the feeble hope that he wouldn't be noticed, only to huff in annoyance at the realisation: he'd have to act like a prisoner anyway.

* * *

Rey's heart had already been ready to jump out of her chest as she snuck around the base in desperate search of anything resembling an exit; when she ran directly into someone after rounding yet another corner, it was all she could do to keep herself from screaming.

"It's fine," the man assured her frantically, "it's fine, you're safe, don't worry. I'm trying to get out of here too."

It was easy to believe him. Although he was tall and bulky, his presence imposing even under the impossibly high ceiling, he had the distinct look of prey being chased in his eyes. Rey had seen it far too many times in far too many different circumstances to not be able to recognise terror while it was staring her in the face.

"You are?" It made sense – the place was _enormous_ and the war had, as far as she was aware, officially started. Who knew how many prisoners they kept hidden around the place? "Is there a way to get out of here?"

"Yes." He'd spent a while here, then. Rey wasn't sure why she knew that, but it was already in her mind, clear as any fact. "Follow me."

He did seem to know what he was doing. It had been a carefully planned escape, too. Although his clothes were as obviously out of place as her own – a simple robe in colours too light to belong anywhere in this place, if all the uniforms she'd seen were anything to go by – he had thrown a bag over his shoulder and was clutching onto the strap as if his life depended on it.

"We need to get off-planet as soon as possible," he said over his shoulder. They'd gone down a corridor that she'd ignored earlier because of the sealed door at the end of it and Rey watched with increasing discomfort as he reached out and, in a gesture that felt frighteningly familiar, started rearranging the wiring of the lock without touching anything at all. She took a step back. "It's not like that," the man hurried to assure her. "I know you've seen this before, but it's more like your power than it is like his. That's why we were taken in the first place."

Rey didn't even need to hear the name to feel shivers crawling up her spine and the stranger hadn't needed her to say it and that was good a proof as any that she'd been right – trying to get out in any way possible, no matter how untried or desperate, was the only solution she'd had left. The pointed stare of the mask that had refused to come off despite the several times she'd challenged him on it would haunt her for a long time.

"He actually only realised that later on for me." On one hand, she was glad that she had someone more experienced by her side, but on the other, her captor sounded worse by the second. How long would it be before he caught up with them? "All he needed at first was information."

The man grimaced. "Sounds painful."

More speaking from experience, she presumed. "How long have you been here?"

"A while." Even now that they were so close to being free, the answer sounded pained. The door was finally starting to move out of the way, slowly, heavily as the metal yielded despite every mechanism inside it until at least one of them could slip through. "Go; I'll lock it again behind us. It'll slow them down some." Rey nodded and stepped past him, right into yet another corridor—

—only to find herself face to face with Finn. Someone was going to give her a heart attack today, she was almost sure of it, and hysterical laughter bubbled up in her relief when she realised that he wasn't alone.

"You all right?" _How_ had everyone ended up here? And why? From her extensive knowledge about smugglers, she wouldn't have expected the most notorious one of them to show up at a First Order base. Rey nodded, still dazed, right before Finn pulled her to the side.

"What happened, did he hurt you?"

"Finn, what are you doing here?"

"We came back for you."

His voice alone suggested that it was the most obvious thing in the world. This place had terrified him enough that he'd nearly agreed to run as far away as he possibly could, but they'd still came back and, if his companions were to be trusted, it had been _his_ idea. Rey pulled him into a hug as tight as she could manage and only let go when she felt him go tense.

It was around that time that she remembered she hadn't come here alone.

"Don't worry, he's with me," she said, throwing a look behind her to see the former prisoner who'd just finished dealing with the entrance. It occurred to her that they'd never introduced themselves to each other as she watched the rest of their little group approach him. "He was interrogated here too; he found me while I was trying to escape. This is—"

"Ben?"

The man at the door turned around so sharply that his long hair ended up obscuring half of his face and, upon seeing Han, what little colour there was in him promptly drained from his skin. He didn't look _scared_ , exactly, but it was a close enough thing – if he could have hidden back behind that door, Rey could feel that he would have done it.

Han didn't let that discourage him. "Ben—"

"Yes." He sounded so small. "It's me."

"Prisoner, huh? That's not what I've been hearing."

"I know." He took a tentative step forwards and suddenly, under the brighter light, Rey was startled to see the resemblance between them. "I know and I've got a lot to tell you— that too," he nodded when Chewbacca added his own, _and a lot to explain_. "And I will. But we need to go. They'll be here soon."

"There's something else we need to do first." Han was holding something dangerously close to an explosive in one hand and while Rey would have definitely liked more information on _that_ , she still paid closer attention to the man's expression, as if he was trying to wade through a dream. Ben's eyes closed in on it immediately.

"For the base?"

"Would you like to help?"

It was a test. It _was_ , no matter how irrational it looked – no matter how little sense any of this made – but Rey could pinpoint the exact moment he passed it by giving a quick nod of affirmation.

"Of course."

~.~

By the time they'd got back to the Millennium Falcon and Starkiller Base was nothing but a memory behind them, all Rey wanted to do was to get back to Jakku, dig a hole for herself in the sand, curl up inside it and then never emerge again. It wasn't just all the pent up stress and exhaustion catching up with her – when the weapon had blown up, there had been plenty of people who hadn't evacuated (it had been part of the plan, really, and she kept repeating as much to herself) and she had somehow felt it all, every lost life. The memory of the interrogation paled in front of that – only one person there had been responsible for it and she was almost certain that he'd made it out. People like Kylo Ren always did.

It wasn't that she was grieving, just— _misbalanced_ , like every single one of those lives had been plucked off of the map of the universe and some force that she couldn't even understand had made sure she knew. It was all getting a bit much and so, when Han, Ben and Chewbacca adopted the distinct air of people in dire need of some privacy and Finn asked if he could have a word, Rey followed immediately.

"Listen, about that guy," he started, voice low enough to not be heard even in the ship that seemed to lack most usual borders of personal space, "just— keep an eye on him, okay? I don't trust him."

It wasn't entirely unreasonable as a concern, although, "Solo does."

"Yeah, but that's his kid. Of course he trusts him." _That_ had been a piece of information Rey hadn't been all that surprised to learn but was still trying to digest. "I'm just saying. There's someone he reminds me of and I couldn't put my finger on it while I was looking at him, but then I heard him talk and— I can now. I can't be sure," he added before she'd had the chance to ask, "but don't you think it's weird how self-assured he is for someone who's supposedly been a prisoner for _years_?"

 _Some people adapt easily_. It was what she would have said if she hadn't wanted to avoid sounding too defensive, because Finn wasn't _wrong_. Just because the man had saved her didn't mean that she knew anything about him; that what little of his story that she had heard hadn't been shrouded in all the questions he'd done his best to dodge. Truth was, maybe she wasn't the best judge of character – she hadn't had much to base her observations on.

"I'll keep an eye on him," she promised at last and, after several more exchanged words, headed back to the room she'd decided was hers.

In the pitch black darkness she'd been left with, it had been impossible to tell that someone had beat her to it until she tried to sprawl herself over the bed and landed straight on someone's chest instead.

"Rey?" One of the overhead lights switched on and the room was bathed in the soft glow of it just enough for her to be able to see the outlines of Ben's features. "Is something wrong?"

"No," she denied quickly, scrambling off of him and onto the empty portion of the bed – the significantly smaller half. "I thought that I could spend the night, but I can find somewhere else."

"It's fine," Ben said, sitting up and propping himself on his elbows. He'd been asleep, she was sure of it, and that just made it all worse. "It was empty before I came. You can stay if you want."

She didn't _not_ want to. It was dark and cold even here inside the ship and she still couldn't shake off the strength of the feeling that all that death had left her with, and sharing that with another human being even for a moment was tempting.

Without a second thought, Rey slid under the covers, the light turning back off as she found a comfortable position. Neither of them moved for a few minutes and she thought that he'd fallen asleep again when Ben spoke.

"You felt it, didn't you? Hosnian Prime, when it burned, and Starkiller too."

She couldn't see the point in lying. "Yes."

"It's because of the Force. You can sense things that others can't, even when a life ends or starts. Especially then."

"How could you tell? That I was like you?" She hadn't said anything as far as she remembered – and Rey could recall every single thing that had happened there with startling clarity.

He was quiet for a moment. "I just can. That's part of it all." Despite the darkness, Rey could feel him turning to her on the bed and she mirrored the movement until they were face to face. It shouldn't have mattered when they couldn't see each other, but it _did_. "You need a teacher. I can show you the ways of the Force."

 _The Force_. It sounded strange when he said it, special; like something was blooming into existence inside of her just because he'd actually given it a name. "I would like that."

"Me too." It sounded like it. It must have been lonely, Rey supposed, having no one to share this with. "Good night, Rey."

"Good night."

Now that she was more used to it, being surrounded by someone's presence was no longer intimidating – she had people who _wanted_ to be nearby and what was the point in sharing a space if they couldn't use it as much as possible? Before she could think herself out of it, Rey shuffled closer and carefully positioned herself so that her head rested on his shoulder. It was better than the nonexistent pillow she'd been left with after he'd hoarded the only one and this time, it felt _natural_ to trust him. She could hear his breathing evening out, his heartbeat so close to her that it was a soothing rhythm that only served to lull her to sleep, for once surrounded by something so _alive_.

* * *

The girl was finally asleep.

Even like that, she was restless, twitching every time he tried to pry a little further into her mind, but not defending herself and even trying to push forward like before; it was nothing but an acknowledgment. Friendly. Welcoming. Far too naive.

She'd let him in eventually. If he stuck around long enough— this hadn't been part of the plan, but it could work. The fact that his father and Chewie had ended up involved had been unexpected, but the deserter? That would be a challenge. He'd likely even met him in person an unknown number of times; if he wanted this to work, it would take quite a lot longer than he'd expected.

Still, everything was under control. His father had accepted his story with all its twists and turns and half-truths and he was glad. It was a strange thing; he'd never liked lying to his father. It didn't feel fair. Lying to any other family member was fruitless because they'd get to the truth one way or another, but it was different with him and now, as he'd told him as much as he'd decided was fit – _it was all Kylo Ren, he was the one who did it_ – and none of it had technically been dishonest. In a way, he was still a creature of habit.

But there was more to it than that. _Wishful thinking_ , he remembered his mother calling it once. It was one of his earliest memories; there had been a diplomatic meeting of some sort and there had been a woman in opposition to whatever his mother had been suggesting and although she'd clearly been lying – he'd been too young to be able to tell what that meant but old enough to feel that something was wrong – and later, when people had trusted her anyway and he'd asked why, that was all he'd got in response. _It's what people do when the truth is too difficult to face_.

It hadn't been an easy concept then, but it was even more difficult to juggle years later when he understood – what would he tell her now, if he ever got that far? And he would have to; there was no way to get the map before they got back to the Resistance. And the sight he would make, with his years-old clothes from when he'd been an apprentice and everything else that had changed so much in the meantime... All the explanations in the world wouldn't save him if his mother bothered to take one look in his mind like she'd done so often when he'd been a child.

But really, the same could be said about Rey. Rey, who'd trusted him enough to fall asleep in his presence even after the horrors everything about him should have reminded her of; Rey, so eager to learn and _help_ that she'd agreed to come with them despite never wanting to leave her homeworld behind. Her and his father and Chewie and even his mother if he managed it – he'd tricked them all into trusting a ghost that he'd buried years ago. What did that say about him? More importantly, what would the Supreme Leader think if he knew? A disguise could only go so far before it became a part of you. What would this one make of him? He was hurtling at the speed of light towards an abandoned home and a vague future through the desolation of deep space, surrounded by people who would have wanted him dead if only they knew, but who had welcomed him with open arms when he was like this.

The uncertainty was terrifying and maddening and _freeing_ and finally, with only that in his mind, Ben slept.


End file.
